Silent Springs
by idonthaveapennamesorry
Summary: The story of how I went through hell and back.
1. Prologue: Hope

**Hi, everyone! I got the idea for this fanfic from a friend of mine who's a huge fan of Johanna, so if it weren't for her inspiration, you wouldn't be reading this right now. For that reason, this story is dedicated to her. Thank you for choosing to read my fanfic, and I hope you enjoy it thoroughly! **

***Please note that there are grammatical errors in this chapter because I wanted to make Johanna's seven-year-old self as realistic as possible***

"_There's some scary stuff out there…"_

Hi. My name is Johanna Mason and I am 7 years old. 7 is kind of a special number for me because that's the number of my district to. Anyway I'm writing right now because when I woke up, there was a notebook on my bed for me to write in when I don't feel like talking to people. Right now, I'm just writing because Carter and daddy don't feel like talking to _me_. They'd never tell me so, but I can tell by there faces. They've been quiet all day, even when I ask them questions they don't give whole answers. Oh well. I can understand why their sad. I'm sad to. Next to the notebook was a little picture frame and it had a kind of poem engraved on it and here is what it says.

"Johanna,

When the sun gives way to clouds of gray

And the birds all cease to sing,

Remember, after raging winters

Come the silent springs.

And so, my dear, when times are hard

And no one seems a friend,

Have faith in my eternal love

Until we meet again."

It's from mommy. I know that because she left last night when me and Carter were sleeping. Before she kissed me good night I asked where she was going and she just said "Away." That's not the answer I was looking for. Then I asked how long she would be away and she said "However long it takes for me to make things right again." I don't know what she means by that and I don't think Carter really knows either. Today he got so mad about it that he yelled at daddy and threw his ax into the forest. He says mommy "abandoned" us which means she just left for _no good reason_. Daddy says Carter gets so angry because he's 13 and wants to know everything but even I know that you can't know everything. He gets angry to but he doesn't throw stuff like Carter. He does yell a lot though. Carter says he's been yelling so much more lately because he's "stressed" and he's "got a lot on his shoulders." I kind of know what he's talking about now. Now daddy has to support me and Carter with his carpenter job. At least he's really good at it. A few years ago, he even made us a tree house and it's still one of my favorite places in the world. Daddy can always seem to make me happy whenever I have a bad day at school or something. Now, I hope daddy and Carter get happy again because I hate it when their upset almost as much as I hate it when they yell at me. I also hope that things "get right again" soon so that mommy can come home and read what I wrote today. I wonder what I'm going to do for the next couple weeks while she's not home. Who will give me my dance lessons and walk me to school every day? Will I have to go by myself? I hope not. There's some scary stuff out there. Maybe Carter can drop me off on the way to his school. Anyway, I'm gonna miss mommy a ton for however long she's gone. For now though, I guess I'll just have to put a picture of her in my picture frame and hope she didn't abandon us like Carter said.


	2. Priorities

**Once again, thank you for reading, and I hope you liked the last chapter! **

"…_a plot to end the Hunger Games unfolding in the back of my mind…"_

Here's the deal: I'm not like other kids. Sure, everybody's got something unique about him or her, but anyone could tell you that I'm something of an outcast here in District 7. _Anyone _could tell you: my teachers, Dad, Carter, even Leni, who's only two and can't really speak for herself yet. If you ask some of my fellow classmates about the weird things I've done, they'll keep you entertained for hours. They'd tell you how I've been kicked out of school twice now for getting into fistfights that resulted in three broken noses, but they sure as hell wouldn't mention _why _I chose to fight in the first place. Doing so would make them look bad, and we wouldn't want that to happen, would we? Long story short, I'm headstrong, sensitive, and independent-Insult my family or anything else that makes my life worth living, and you'll wake up in a hospital bed…six months later.

I haven't broken a nose in two years, though, and for a couple reasons. Firstly, all those bitches at school have learned to lay off the insults. Secondly, I've found new ways to "channel my anger" at the request of the school guidance counselor. Nowadays, when I think about how people, including my mother, have made my life a living hell, I pick up my axe and take all my negative feelings out on a tree until we have enough chopped firewood to last us a good year-and-a-half. Why? I say, why not? There's no shortage of trees in District 7, after all. They're _kind of_ what we're known for.

Is hacking at trees in my misery _all_ that I do for a living? Nah. My siblings keep me occupied. There's Carter, who's eighteen, laid-back, resourceful, and the friendliest person you'll ever meet. No, he wasn't adopted. We're actually siblings, but you probably wouldn't be able to tell based on our personalities. We do have things in common, though: our chesnut-like eyes, our auburn hair, our fair complexion, and most of all, our mischievous demeanors. He's an expert prankster, and he's even shown me some things he says would "come in use in the Hunger Games." Don't tell Dad that, though. He'd kill him if only he knew.

Notice how, earlier on, I mentioned my "siblings," you know, with an "s." Well, it's not exactly like that. You see, Leni, who I think I already talked about, is _actually_ my cousin that was placed in Dad's care when our aunt died giving childbirth. I'd rather not get into the details. Leni is…well, in a way, my weakness. She brings out my "soft side," so to speak. I can honestly say that I'm happiest when she's laughing and saddest when she cries, but I can't explain why it works that way. Maybe we have some sort of connection that allows me to empathize with her in a way that I can't with anyone else, not even with Carter or Dad. It could be that I feel I have a duty to be her "mother-figure" as Carter and I don't have one ourselves and Dad is busy most of the time. The only thing I can be entirely sure of is that, if I knew that I could live my life with no chance of failure, I'd put my family back together piece by piece, a plot to end the Hunger Games unfolding in the back of my mind.

Family comes first, but today, on the day of my first reaping, there is one thing on my list of priorities that competes with family for the top spot: justice.


End file.
